


Cops & Robbers

by julieiguess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Career, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cop AU, Love Triangle (sort of), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julieiguess/pseuds/julieiguess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is 22 and doesn't know what to do with his life. His dad was one of the greatest NYPD Officers in history, now retired. Is there really any other occupation he could choose? During training he meets the annoyingly handsome and annoyingly good at his job, Derek Hale. Derek is one of the best field officers they have and Stiles is the capable and somewhat clumsy son-of-a-legend. Guess who ends up as partners?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's see you shoot.

“Following in your old man’s footsteps?” Officer Harold chuckled when he saw Stiles show up for the first day of training.  
“That’s the idea.” Stiles said, a hinge of anxiety in his voice. He was lined up with 5 other new kids, all staring at Stiles in discovery of his connections.  
“Good on you, kid. I wish my son had done the same instead of ending up at some fruity art school…” Officer Harold seemed to trail off for a moment and then picked up again, giving every person in the line up a terrifying glare. “This is the NYPD. You’re not in your hometown where the worst thing that could happen is a stolen iPod. This is serious business, and looking at all of your applications, it would seem you know that.” He paused, staring at us again. Stiles was already prepared for this pep talk. His dad said that Harold gave to it all the newbies to scare them off. “I picked each and every one of you to work in the field because you seemed qualified. But that’s not enough. You’ve all taken the tests and got the qualifications, but there is no test that will measure your reflexes while on duty. There is no test that will see if you can pick up your gun fast enough to save your life. No test to see if you can think on your feet while facing near death. No test to see if you know when to kill and when to hold fire.”  
Stiles was holding steady, he was sweating profusely, but steady. The guy standing next to Stiles was shaking in his boots, not that he blamed him for it. Harold had one nasty glare.  
“That is why you will all go through rigorous training these next two months. Training that I will monitor and then at the end of those two months, I will select those who will start in the field and those who will be doing office work for the next year. “  
Stiles gulped. He was ready. Probably. 

*****

“SHOOT!” Officer Harold screamed at them. He was doing it at random intervals so they would have to think more “spontaneously”. This last call had been the first after a five-minute waiting period.  
Stiles quickly aimed his pistol in the middle of the target at the end of the hall and fired. He completely missed and hit the wall, cursing under his breath. Over the summer he had done this a million times with his dad, he could shoot perfectly. Although that was outdoors, with his own gun, at his own speed and without an intimidating old man breathing down his neck.  
“Stilinski! Do you not understand the concept of a target?” Harold screamed at him.  
“I’m sorry, officer.” Stiles said, still looking forward.  
“Don’t say sorry, sorry is for the weak. SHOOT!” The group fired off another round, Stiles coming in extremely late, but at least he hit the target this time.  
“Boyd, good work.” Harold nodded to a boy at the end of the row. He was big, built and looked like he could knock out Stiles with a single punch. He grinned nervously at the ground at the compliment and Stiles made a mental note to say hello to him after training. 

*****

“Hey, Boyd right?” Stiles approached him as they were leaving the building. “I’m Stiles. Nice shooting back there.”  
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Boyd flashed him a genuine smile, looking surprised at Stiles’ hello.  
“Yeah you’re a real pro at it. It’d be nice if you’d share some of that talent so my eardrums wouldn’t take such a beating.” Stiles said.  
“He’s just being hard on you because he knows you have it in you.” Boyd said. His words were soft and kind. Stiles raised his eyebrows, not expecting the compliment. “You do, I’ve seen you shoot. You know what you’re doing; you’re just letting all of the pressure get to you. Relax next time, trust me.”  
“Thanks.” Stiles made a funny lopsided smile. With the way Boyd had been dominating the training the past week, he wouldn’t have expected him to be such a nice person. “I’ll see you next week?” He said at a fork in the road.  
“Looking forward to it.” 

*****

“Yes Stilinski! Finally.” Officer Harold shouted. Stiles had just shot a bull’s-eye his third time in a row. “Just like your father, I knew it.”  
Boyd had been right, of course. As he was taking a shot, he forgot about Harold, leering over him. In fact, he forgot about everyone in the room. In his mind, it was just him, the target and a nice field of grass on a warm day – just like when his dad showed him.  
Stiles heard the door creak open. “Hale! Come to see the new recruits?” Harold said loudly to the person at the door. Stiles looked over to see a man step in. He looked older, but not much older than Stiles himself. He had short cut black hair, a coat of stubble and a jawline that seemed too good to be true. He stepped into the shooting range room and shook Harold’s hand.  
“New recruits, meet Derek Hale – one of the finest field men you’ll ever seen.”  
I’ll say. Stiles thought to himself, although that was probably not the way he meant it.  
“Derek has captured and brought down more criminals than any of you could ever dream of doing. And he’s only 26. This young man gives me hope for the new generation.” Officer Harold smiled at him like he was his own son. It was kind of creepy, actually, and Derek didn’t seem too thrilled about it either.  
“Why don’t you show me what you’ve got this year?” Derek said, staring down all of the young police-officers-to-be. “Some of them could be promising.” Stiles noticed Derek’s eyes stop on Boyd, of course.  
“Yes, of course. That is Boyd, excellent shooter, extremely strong and surprisingly light on his feet. I have no doubt that he will do us well.” Stiles noticed Boyd smile at the floor again in light of the compliment. “Brown looks quite promising as well.” He said, motioning to the girl next to Boyd who gave a quick snap of a smile at the comment. “Oh! And how could I forget Stilinski, the son of one of the greats.” Stiles neck immediately went red as he said his name. He could feel Derek’s eyes glued to him.  
“This is Stilinski’s son?” Derek asked, slowly walking towards Stiles.  
“Just call me Stiles.” He huffed, cursing at himself for suddenly being so nervous. He shouldn’t be here, not among the names of Harold’s potentials. He could barley shoot before today, his hand-to-hand combat was amateur at best, he could sprint half decently but there was no way he was anywhere near the top of the group. His dad’s legacy was following him around. He wasn’t anything like his dad; he liked the detective work, not the shooting. He wanted to solve murders, not prevent them. He suddenly didn’t know why he was here at all.  
“Stiles?” The corner of Derek’s mouth flinched at the nickname. “Let’s see you shoot.”  
“Um, okay.” Stiles picked up his gun and held it out to aim at the target. Breathe. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head. He tried to go outside, but his mind wouldn’t take him there. The only place his mind would focus was on the 6 foot god standing behind him, breathing steadily and staring holes into the back of his head. He knew everyone was waiting for him and it wasn’t helping him calm down. He decided to just take the shot. And hit about one foot to the left of the target’s head.  
He heard Derek snicker behind him.  
“Are you sure that’s Stilinski’s son?” Derek said and walked out of the room. Ouch.  
“Let it go.” Boyd muttered from beside him, noticing Stiles’ neck glowing red again. “He’s just some big shot that’s trying to make us nervous. Just remember what I said and relax.” Boyd smiled at him.

*****

“And he made me shoot in front of everyone and I couldn’t focus and I looked like the biggest idiot on the planet!” Stiles moaned to Scott in front of his morning cup of coffee. They were sitting in a café just outside the campus where Scott was working on his Masters degree. Sports Therapy. Scott was about just as unsure about his life as Stiles. But where Stiles opted to pick his father’s career, Scott opted to stay in school until he was ready to face the real world. So maybe he would stay in school until he dies.  
Scott laughed at Stiles’ detailed reenactment of his training. “Dude, you can’t choke up every time some hot guy is watching you shoot. What if the guy you had to shoot was hot?” Scott said while half chewing on a cream cheese bagel.  
“I see your point and I raise you – ‘Is anyone ever going to be hotter than Derek Hale?’ We haven’t tested how I am around normally hot people. I can probably shoot fine in front of them.”  
“If you say so, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments/suggestions would be greatly appreciated :) I don't know exactly where I'm heading with this story, I'm just hoping to make it fun & enjoyable. Thanks for reading.


	2. Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The training continues

“Use your elbows! The elbows!” Officer Harold was yelling at Stiles as per usual.   
It was the fourth consecutive week of training and Stiles could honestly say that he was improving. Also, he and Boyd had become good friends, always teaming up whenever they could and spending lunch hours together.   
Although his dad had taught him a few tricks, Stiles still had a long way to go to live up to his reputation. His shooting was much better now; he hit the center of the target almost every time. But he had never tried in front of Derek again and had no idea what would happen if he did. Stiles, being the lanky one in the group, was one of the best at running and cardio. Only the girl, Harriet Brown, could beat him at sprints. They did several mind tests as well, which Stiles enjoyed the most. They tested whether or not you could tell if someone was lying, they set up a pretend case to solve as well as many other things and Stiles passed with flying colours. That part of police work had always been his favourite.   
The only thing Stiles needed improving on was his hand-to-hand combat. He had gained substantial strength in the past month, but he was still no match to most of his opponents.   
“Now hit his face! Always go for the face!” Harold yelled. Stiles was fighting Boyd – in full protective gear – and having a miserable time. Boyd had been trying to give him some pointers over the past few weeks, but he just couldn’t get the hang of it. “Okay, you missed the face… the legs! Knock him down!” Stiles was on the ground, desperately trying to kick at Boyd’s legs so he would fall. It was no use. Harold wouldn’t stop shouting at him, which wasn’t really helping, but Stiles knew he had the best intentions. Stiles was doing well at training and not a day had passed where Harold wouldn’t talk about his father. Every time he did, he would make sure to give Stiles a look that told him he expected the same out of him.   
Stiles panted and collapsed on the floor exhausted. “I’m out.” He gasped. Boyd nodded and started taking off his gear. Just then the door opened.   
“Officer Harold, there’s an urgent call for you at the front desk. You’re needed in the field.” It was Derek, standing right next to Stiles as he formed a sweaty lump on the floor. Perfect.   
“Thank you, I think I know what this is about. Do you mind taking over while I’m gone? It could be a while.”   
Stiles couldn’t see but it seemed like Derek had agreed because Harold rushed out of the door.   
Fantastic. Stiles thought, slowly making his way back to his feet.   
After Harold left the room, Stiles noticed a mood shift in Derek. He wasn’t straight-backed and professional anymore; he loosened up and tried on a snarky grin. Everyone in the room seemed to have stopped what they were doing to stare at Derek, waiting for him to say something.  
“Well, what are you waiting for? Show me what you’ve got.” He said, his smile slowly curving it’s way up his face.   
We started a competition of sorts, only one fight at a time and the winners of the first two fights would face each other and then the winner of that fight would face the best in the group – Boyd. Stiles was facing Brown, the energetic little redheaded girl who liked to beat him at running.   
The other group fought first – Evans and Dean. Dean was a big guy; he reminded Stiles of a typical high school jock, aged about 5+ years. He had coarse blonde hair and a confident look about him. Evans, next to Dean, looked like a bug. A fairly adorable bug, Stiles noted, but he didn’t have much on Dean. As they fought, Stiles was impressed by Evans’ ability to move quickly and avoid punches. Dean was strong but fairly slow. Stiles noticed the odd silence in the room, save for the huffs of breath from the two competitors. Usually Harold would be screaming things at them, telling them what to do better, but Derek was just simply watching with a bemused smile on his face. In the end Dean beat Evans – his agility wasn’t enough – and then it was Stiles’ turn.  
Stiles’ had a lump in his throat as he put on the protective gear and stepped onto the mat. Every cell in his body could feel Derek staring at him and he couldn’t help but worry that he was going to make a fool of himself. Again.   
“Start.” Derek said from the sidelines.   
Brown gave Stiles a confident smirk and started moving closer to him. They were about the same body type, wiry, skinny and strong, but Stiles already knew that she could fight better than him. If anything, she would win just because she had the confidence that Stiles didn’t.  
It started with a few punches that Stiles dodged, but as soon as he tried to attack her, everything went downhill from there. She was a lot stronger than he had anticipated. A lot stronger. And before Stiles could even breathe, she had him pinned down to the floor with that same cocky smile plastered to her face.   
“Exactly how bad was it?” Stiles asked Boyd, stumbling his way off the fighting mat. He had made a point not to check Derek’s reaction to the fight. He didn’t think he could handle it.   
“You just need to focus.” He said as kindly as he could. Stiles gave him a tired look. “Okay fine, you were shit out there.” Stiles smiled meekly at Boyd’s attempt to please him. Boyd was never the one to be brutally honest, but sometimes that’s what he needed.   
“Did Derek look pissed?” Stiles couldn’t refrain himself from asking.  
“He looked… kind of disappointed, actually.”  
Stiles could feel his neck start burning red. “Ah, another person who expects me to be my dad. Of course.”   
The next match was close, but in the end Dean took out Brown by sheer force. Then it was Boyd’s turn to face Dean. They were both about equally matched in size and strength, but Stiles knew that Boyd had one hell of a fight in him. Boyd took down Dean in less than five minutes.   
“Impressive.” Derek said to Boyd after the match. “We’ll be lucky to have you on the force.”   
“Thank you.” Boyd smiled. And Stiles had never seen him smile as big as he did just then.   
“Dude, they shouldn’t even make you go to the next few weeks of training.” Stiles said. “It’s already obvious that you’re the best one here.” Boyd’s smile grew bigger.   
“Okay everyone. That’s it for today.” Derek said. He was letting them go about 30 minutes early and nobody was complaining. Everyone filed out of the room, Stiles and Boyd chatting at the end of the line.  
“Stilinski.” Stiles heard his name and looked back; it was Derek. “I want to talk to you for a second.”  
“Uh, okay.” He said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Boyd.” Boyd said goodbye and left the room, leaving Stiles alone with Derek. “So… How’s it going?” Derek didn’t crack a smile.   
“Put on the gear; we’re going to fight.” He said.  
“Fight?” Stiles squeaked. “Did I do something wrong?”   
“Not as punishment, idiot, I’m going to teach you.” Derek grabbed some pads from the floor and stood in the middle of the room, seemingly waiting for Stiles to do something.   
“Oh…” Stiles relaxed for a second. But only for a second. “Teach? Am I really that bad at hand-to-hand?”   
“Yes.” Derek grunted. From spending so much time with the soft and kind Boyd, Stiles was startled by his up-front attitude. “But that’s not why I’m teaching you. Harold talks about you, said you had ‘potential’. I haven’t seen it, and the man might be a little bit headstrong, but he’s not blind. Plus, you’re Stilinski’s kid. That talent has to be in you somewhere.”  
“So your plan is to punch it out of me?” Stiles gulped.   
“If I have to.”   
“Hey, I was joking! And I’ll have you know that I am actually quite good at police training.” Derek raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Except for hand-to-hand.”   
“Shooting?”   
“I got better.”  
“Uh-huh.” Derek said in disbelief, letting out a soft chuckle. “So, do you want to fight or not?”  
“Yeah, let’s get down and dirty.” Stiles spoke without thinking and Derek responded with a cock of the eyebrow. “Fighting! I was talking about fighting.” His neck was flaming red again.  
They both strapped on the protective gear and met on the mat. The room was quiet and cold without the group of people surrounding them; Stiles resisted the urge to shiver. The only light on was shining over the mat, making the rest of the room feel eerie.  
“Okay. Now I want you to hit me. Give me your best shot.” Derek said. Stiles gulped and clenched his fists together. He looked at Derek who was standing casually in front of him, not in the defensive pose that he was used to everyone else doing. Again he could feel Derek looking at him and it was causing some serious problems with his focus.   
He directed his punch to Derek’s stomach with as much force as he could muster. It had looked like he was going to hit him until Derek blocked it at the last second. He grabbed his wrist and returned by giving Stiles a generously medium-hard hit to the stomach.   
“Your first lesson is in defense.” Derek said, his hand still gripping Stiles’ wrist. “You can block alright when that’s all you’re focusing on, but as soon as you start to fight back you become useless. When you fought Brown today, as soon as you started in the offence she destroyed you.” All Stiles could manage to do was nod in response. “You need to keep your arms tucked in instead of flailing them around like an idiot. Plus you’ll be quicker that way too. The less reaction time you give your opponent, the less time they have to defend themselves.”   
Derek moved his hand down Stiles’ arm, forcing it into his side like Derek had told him. Stiles’ neck hadn’t stopped glowing red.   
“Do you do this with all your trainees?” Stiles joked and Derek met him with a cold glare. “Okay, I get it, this is serious time. You’re not the first person to tell me to shut up.”   
“I could believe that.” Derek grumbled.   
They kept on training for another 45 minutes. They had to pause every couple of minutes so Derek could point out the numerous things that Stiles was doing wrong, but they eventually got to the point where they could do a real match. Well, “real” meaning Stiles would give it everything he has and Derek would make sure not to hit at full strength.   
Stiles was still having the An Extremely Hot Man Is Making It Impossible To Focus problem, and this training session may have made it worse. In the middle of combat, when Stiles would be trying to dig up all of the little tips from his mind that Derek had barked at him, he would loose focus on the tips and start focusing on Derek. Derek in his stupid muscle t-shirt with his stupid 6 o’clock shadow making stupid and somehow endearing insults on Stiles behalf. Derek training after-hours alone with Stiles.   
And that would be the point in his train of thought where he would get knocked off his feet from a punch and subsequently yelled at for not being alert.   
“You just need better focus.” Derek said to him after they had taken off all their gear. “The technique is passable and you definitely don’t match up to your opponents in strength…”   
“Score.” Stiles sarcastically interjected.  
“But you’re quick. That will be one of your biggest strengths. You’ve improved a lot, you just can’t loose focus on what you’re doing. Although I have no idea how someone could get distracted in the middle of a freaking fight in the first place.”  
“You’re telling me. Maybe the Adderall’s stopped working.” Stiles muttered, not paying attention to what he was saying.   
“Adderall?” Derek questioned before cluing in. “Oh, you’ve got ADD?”   
Stiles was internally punching himself in the face. He hadn’t meant to bring that up.   
“Um, yeah. I mean it’s gotten a lot better than when I was a kid. I don’t really worry about it much anymore.”   
“Oh, okay.”  
The air suddenly felt awkward and stiff. Stiles hated talking about his ADD and Derek could feel it.   
“Well, uh, thanks for the training.” Stiles said, slowly making his way out of the room.   
“Don’t mention it.”  
“I’ll see you around.” Stiles left the room briskly after he spoke, already beginning to slowly run over the night in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I suck at posting quickly, but I think once I get further into the story the writing will come easier!
> 
> And also I'm not an expert on fighting techniques or anything. I'm basing all of this off of a self defence course I took 3 years ago (which I can barley remember). So I'm sorry if I got anything wrong!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Sourpuss

“Dad?” Stiles was standing in the doorway of his childhood home, a roomy bungalow located just outside of New York City.  
Stiles had a key and never bothered to knock anymore. He owned a place in the city and would usually come and visit every weekend or so, and his dad hated that Stiles had to wait for him to open up the door like a guest. Thus the key. The place smelled like dust bunnies and lightly burned toast. Stiles could see a stack of unwashed dishes piled by the sink and he could hear the roar of a sports game blaring from the television in the next room.  
“Dad.” Stiles walked into the living room and saw his dad sitting on the couch, very absorbed in whatever was happening on TV. He broke out a large smile when he saw his son sit down beside him.  
“So what’s new?” His dad asked.  
“Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what today was.” Stiles said, holding back a grin as best as he could.  
“Okay, fine.” His dad smiled. “How’d it go? Wait – before you say anything I just want to let you know that it’s okay if you do deskwork for a while. It’s only your first year, you’ll have plenty of time to try again next year.”  
“Dad, I am personally offended that you assume I didn’t make it.” Stiles said in a teasingly happy way. “Just because I got mom’s coordination and not yours doesn’t mean…”  
“Goddammit Stiles, just tell me what happened!”  
“I made it.” He said after a long pause. “I was in the top three. I mean I can kind of see choosing me over Evans – he wasn’t very good. But Dean is a freakin’ brick. And they chose me. Over the Hulk 2.0. Me.”  
His dad was giving him one of those rare smiles that only came out on the best of days.  
“I’m so proud of you.” He wasn’t paying any attention to the TV anymore. He pulled Stiles in for a big hug that lasted 30 seconds longer than comfortable hug time, but Stiles didn’t mind.  
The next person he told was Scott. He called him from the house because lately he had been spending most of his time with his bride-to-be, Alison.  
“That’s amazing Stiles.” Alison said. They were on speakerphone. “You know they don’t take just anyone; I’ve seen great kids get spit out of there. You should stop by artillery on your first day to say hello. I’m always looking for someone to talk to.” She had gotten a job handling the NYPD’s weapons after her senior year through connections with her dad.  
“Thanks.” Stiles smiled. “I will for sure.”  
“Oh my god, is it going to be just like CSI?” Stiles could feel Scott’s excitement through the phone. “Are you going to go to see dead bodies?”  
“Yep.” Stiles wanted to play off Scott’s excitement and act like it was no big deal. He wanted to, but he couldn’t help but share this with his best friend. “Lots of dead bodies. I’m going to be like Sherlock Holmes, but less sleuthing and more shooting.”  
“Oh, I could be your Watson!”  
“I think you’d need to join the NYPD for that, bud.” Stiles chuckled. He could practically hear Scott frown over the phone.  
“Stiles? I just…” Scott sounded hesitant for a moment. “I don’t want you to get hurt at all. I’m always hearing stuff on the news about people getting murdered and now that’s your job to catch those kinds of people and… just take a good shot, dude.”  
“I’ll try not to miss. Besides, I’m going to get a partner. Someone to watch my back. I’ll be fine.”

*************

“I’m very confident in the skills of these three fine young people that will join our police force.” Officer Harold said.  
Stiles, Boyd and Brown were lined up at the front of the office, all eyes on them as Harold gave them their official speech to welcome them to the force. Stiles couldn’t help but get a horrible flush on his neck.  
“I hope you all give them the warm welcome they deserve. That goes especially to a few of you. I have decided that it would be wise to pair these three up with more experienced officers. Although they have gone through my rigorous training, they are bound to make some mistakes and I need your help to guide them.” Harold paused for a long moment. Stiles thought it was over and almost started to leave before he spoke again. “Grimes! You’re new partner is Brown. Be careful, she’s a real firecracker.”  
A man in his late 30’s with sandy hair and a goatee got up to greet Brown.  
“Lee, you’ll be with Boyd, our best recruit. I’m sure you two will work fine together.” Lee was a young and sharp looking Asian man. He stood up and walked to Boyd when his name was called.  
“Lastly… Hale. You’ve already met Mr. Stilinski and I can see you two making quite the pair.”  
Stiles had been consciously aware of Derek lurking in the corner of the room during the entire speech, but he hadn’t been ready for this. Derek huffed and walked briskly to the front of the room and stood next to Stiles after giving him a curt nod. God, no, anyone but him, please. Stiles was a good policeman, but being next to freaking Derek “should have been a male model” Hale, he somehow lost that ability.  
“Okay, now get back to work!” Harold shouted. “And you six won’t have to do anything serious until tomorrow. For now, just get acquainted.” With that he walked off.  
“Just to think, if you had never helped me train, maybe you’d have Dean as your partner, eh?” Stiles turned to Derek and smiled. Derek responded in a roll of the eyes.  
“So you’re the better alternative?” Derek challenged.  
“Harold seems to think so. Besides, I’m probably more fun than Dean. He seemed to take everything so seriously. I think you lucked out.”  
“Anyone ever tell you that modesty is a virtue?”  
“Who said I wanted to be virtuous?’ Stiles smirked and then his neck immediately flushed red after rethinking what he’d said.  
“So, uh, there’s not really much to do around here if we’re not in the field.” Derek said. “I could show you around the building, I guess.”  
“Sounds thrilling, but I think I’ve got this place memorized from when I used to come here as a kid.”  
“Right. I keep forgetting that you’re Stilinski’s kid.”  
“Yup, son-of-a-legend. That’s me. Could we go to artillery? I’ve got a friend there I should say hi to.” Stiles said.  
“Oh.” Derek said. “Okay, good. You can keep yourself busy and I can leave then?” All of a sudden Derek seemed extremely rude. He could understand what people meant when they said he was a bit of an ass. Of course Stiles’ sources were limited to the trainees.  
“I guess?”  
“I’ll see you here tomorrow at 8.” Derek nodded and promptly left. Stiles looked around to see the other two kids still chatting with their partners. Boyd saw Derek leave, to which he gave Stiles a questioning look. Stiles just shrugged.  
He left the room and walked down the long hallway. An echo, growing louder as the voices from the other room died away, followed each step. Finally, after getting slightly lost (the place was bigger than he’d remembered), he reached the artillery. There were huge black doors blocking the entrance. You needed an ID card to get in, which Stiles failed to remember to pick up first. He knocked on the door and waited a few moments before someone opened it. He had dull golden hair, gangly limbs, looked about Stiles’ age, and was staring at him with a confused look.  
“I’m Stiles. I work here, I just – I forgot to pick up my ID stuff. But I don’t want guns or anything! I’m just here to say hi to Alison.” Stiles rambled on and the man’s face relaxed when he talked about Alison.  
“I’ll get her.” He said, shutting the door on Stiles. It reopened almost seconds later to a smiling Alison.  
“Come in!” She said.  
It was a large room with black walls and white floors. The walls and shelves were lined with any type of weapon you could imagine. Literally – Stiles thought he saw a bazooka.  
“Welcome to the place that takes up 8 hours of my day, 6 days a week.” Alison said.  
“It’s nice.”  
“Oh, and this is Isaac by the way.” She pointed to the man who let him in. “He’s new here so I’m supposed to be showing him the ropes. Technically, we’re not supposed to open the door for knockers.” She said to Isaac. “But lucky for you, it was just Stiles and not a homicidal maniac.”  
“Do we get a lot of those?” Isaac gulped.  
“Once or twice a week, no big deal.” Alison laughed. “Anyways, how’s your first day of work being on the NYPD?”  
“It’s feels pretty nice. I don’t get to do anything today though. We’re just supposed to get acquainted with our partners.”  
“Who’s your partner?” She asked.  
“Derek Hale.” Stiles winced. There was no way that Scott had kept Stiles’ work-crush a secret. A slow smile spread across Alison’s face.  
“You mean, that Derek Hale?” Her tone told Stiles that his suspicions had been spot on.  
“Derek Hale?’ Isaac spoke. “Isn’t he that officer that always has a look on his face like he’s just bitten into a really sour lemon?”  
“Yup, that’s the one.” Stiles said. He could feel a red flush beginning to form on his neck.  
“He’s also the one that makes certain people all hot and bothered by just existing.” Alison smirked. It seemed like she was getting some sort of sick pleasure out of teasing him.  
“Oh, shut up.” His neck was full on flaming red now.  
“You’ve got a thing for the sourpuss?” Isaac asked, his mouth forming a lopsided smile.  
“It’s not a thing, it’s more like me… appreciating beauty when I see it, okay?” Stiles said. “Now let’s stop harassing Stiles and get on with our lives.”  
“Doubtful.” Alison smirked.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I suck at being on time!! But I think I'm going to start posting 1-2 times per week. Once on busy weeks and as many times as I can on weeks that school dies down (if those weeks ever come...).  
> Happy Valentines Day! Consider this your valentine from me to you :)


	4. Undying

“There are a few things you should know about police work. Number one: you’re always on duty. Even when you’ve got time off and you’re sitting on your couch doing god knows what: you’re on duty.”  
“If you’re going to say crime never sleeps, we’re really going to need to work on your use of clichés. Lesson number one: if you’re not being sarcastic, stop. Lesson number two…”  
“Stiles.”  
“Fine, I’ll shut up.”  
Derek and Stiles were sitting in a police cruiser on the corner of 59th and 1st. Stiles insisted on driving due to the fact that he always had to take the passenger’s seat – or the back seat – when driving with his dad. Derek reluctantly agreed. They weren’t assigned to any major cases because Harold thought that all of the new recruits should take it easy today. They would have stayed at the station if not for Stiles persistence on “keeping the streets of New York safe”.  
“I’m being serious.” Derek said. His face was stiff as usual. “Once you start getting more in depth with police work, you’ll have to be very careful wherever you go. If you’re any good at this, you’ll make a lot of bad people very angry.”  
“That’s adorable, you want to keep me safe.”  
“I don’t…” Derek fumed. “I’m teaching you. I don’t want my partner to be a total idiot.”  
“Less adorable, but I’ll take it.” Derek rolled his eyes. “What are we supposed to do now anyways? Just sitting here is kind of boring.”  
“Well usually when I’m not assigned to a case, I just stay in the office. But someone insisted that we had to patrol the streets.”  
“So being passionate about my job is a crime?” Stiles said. “Besides, I’m new at this. You’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching me how all of it works.”  
“I didn’t mean… wait.” The expression in Derek’s face changed from annoyed to focused in a split second. “Those two people there, across the street.”  
Stiles looked in the direction of Derek’s gaze to see two people walking along the sidewalk. The one in front was a woman with a terrified look on her face. A man in a dark suit whose speed was increasing with every second was following her.  
“Oh shit, what do we do?” Stiles asked. The street was empty except for them, sitting in a police car that was tucked away out of view.  
“We aren’t doing anything. I am.” Derek grabbed his gun and turned off the safety. “Don’t even think about getting out of this car.”  
“But…”  
“Don’t!” They both looked over at the people across the street, but they weren’t there anymore. Derek quickly spotted a dark alleyway and ran towards it without another word.  
“Ugh, I am totally capable.” Stiles grumbled in the car. “Just because I’m new doesn’t mean I can’t help.” He slouched in his seat, moping, until his mind stumbled across an idea. What if Derek was in trouble? What if the creepy stalker guy had a gun too? Is it not his duty to keep his partner safe at all times? He weighed the two scenarios of Derek yelling at him for getting out of the car and Derek hugging him for saving his life. He was running towards the alleyway before he could finish the thought.  
Stiles’ heart was thumping in his chest. This was the first thing he had ever done as a police officer, without his father, and with actual permission to be shooting things with the gun in his belt. Suddenly the cold metal felt heavier than ever as the time when he tried to shoot in front of Derek came back to him. He tried to steady his breathing and forget about everything else. He wouldn’t mess up this time; he wouldn’t let himself.  
He neared the alleyway and heard shouting. Derek’s and what sounded like the creepy stalker. He leaned against the wall, preparing himself to jump in. Breathe, Stiles. Breathe. He told himself. He was a registered police officer of the New York Police Department. He was chosen for this. He was ready.  
A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins and he jumped out from behind the wall.  
“Don’t worry, Stiles Stilinski is here to…” Before he could utter the words save the day, a massive body ran straight into Stiles and pushed him to the ground.  
It took a second for Stiles to orientate himself before realizing that the man that ran into him was the stalker. He shoved the guy off of him and pinned him to the ground. Then he looked up to notice an incredibly pissed off Derek standing over him.  
“What was so confusing about stay in the car?” Derek growled.  
“I thought you might need a hand! And look, I helped you catch this guy.” Stiles nodded to the man pinned underneath him.  
“I was handling it.”  
“By letting him run free into the streets? Just admit it, I saved your ass.” Stiles couldn’t hold back a smirk.  
“I would have caught him.”  
“Uh-huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”  
Derek rolled his eyes.

**************

“A congratulations goes to my best friend, Stiles, for joining the ranks of New York’s finest!” Scott yelled with a huge smile plastered on his face and his glass raised.  
“And to Boyd, for achieving the same thing but doing it, way, way, better than me.” Stiles smiled at Boyd.  
The whole gang was sitting in a bar in downtown New York after Stiles and Boyd’s first day of work. Scott was there with Alison, both of them making googly eyes at each other. Alison had brought Isaac, her friend at the artillery who was sitting at the table fiddling with his glass. Stiles had invited Boyd because of how well they had been getting along the past few months. Erica, Stiles’ ex girlfriend, had also showed up. They had dated for a year and a half in college, and when they broke up it was on good terms - but they hadn’t spoken in over a year. Until, a few nights ago, she texted him that she moved back into the city and then he invited her here tonight. He didn’t really expect her to come.  
“Hey Stiles, why didn’t you invite Derek?” Scott asked him. Stiles neck immediately flushed red.  
“Derek?” Stiles squeaked.  
“We are celebrating your police officer-ness after all. He’s your partner, you could have invited him.”  
“Well… Boyd could have invited his partner too! Why don’t we bug Boyd about this.” Stiles grumbled.  
“For one, my partner smells kind of weird. Two, I don’t have a massive crush on him.” Boyd smirked.  
“Although I appreciate the snark, massive is not the word I would use.”  
“What then?” Alison chimed in. “Huge? Head-over-heels? Undying?”  
“Ok, I’m pretty sure I told Scott he was hot like one time, I don’t think that classifies as undying.”  
“Hold on, nobody ever told me that Stiles had a crush!” Erica said, a devious smirk planted on her face. “And Stiles, honey, I don’t think it’s what you say. It’s the way your face looks every time somebody says his name.”  
“Yeah, it’s kinda true.” Isaac said. “Even I could tell and I’ve only met you for about ten minutes.”  
The red flush would not disappear from Stiles’ neck.  
“Okay, guys. We should stop harassing him now.” Scott said at great relief of Stiles. “We’re here to celebrate. Now who wants another round of drinks?”  
They drank a lot. If Stiles had to look back on it, he probably would have stopped a few drinks earlier. If Stiles had been thinking at all that night, he would have remembered that he was a bit of a lightweight who got tipsy after two shots. But, Stiles wasn’t thinking and neither was anyone else.  
“GOD, I LOVE NEW YORK!” Isaac shouted at the top of his lungs. Nobody was really sure how many drinks he’d had, but they were all sure that he got considerably louder when drunk.  
“Tell me about it.” Erica said. “I’m not sure why I ever left in the first place. Oh, wait that’s right it was because of the breakup with Stiles. Dude, you cost me like a year in the greatest city on earth.” Erica seemed the same when she was drunk except she got exceptionally bitchier.  
“Woooah, it’s not my fault. You coulda stayed. New York’s big enough for the both of us.” Stiles said, a misplaced giggle escaping through his lips.  
“Whatever, I’m still going to blame you.”  
“If that floats your boat.” Stiles giggled again.  
Scott, Alison and Boyd were at the bar having an intense drinking contest. Although, Scott was more watching and cheering on his girlfriend than participating. Stiles was glad that Boyd was getting along with them so well.  
“Is your friend single?” Erica asked.  
“Who, Scott? He’s kind of engaged to Alison.” Stiles said.  
“No, not him. Boyd.”  
“You have a thing for Boyd?” Stiles giggled for the third time.  
“He’s hot. So is he single?”  
“100% as far as I know.” Stiles said and Erica smiled. She got up from the table to go and talk to him, leaving Stiles and Isaac alone.  
They both ordered another drink and downed it quickly. Again, they were not thinking.  
“So Isaac, you’re liking your job at the police department, yeah?” Stiles asked.  
“Uh-huh, it’s fun. Probably like the most fun desk job you could ask for.” He smiled.  
“Do you think Alison’s hot?” Stiles had this horrible habit of asking everyone in a 5-mile radius who they though was hot when he was drunk. Combine that with the giggling habit and you had a man in his 20s that acted like he was 15.  
“She’s cute but I don’t really swing that way, you know.” Isaac said calmly. His mouth then twitched up into a half smile. “There is noooo way I would have told you that if I wasn’t drunk out of my mind.”  
“Well I’m not exactly the judging type. You just heard everyone I know tease me about having a crush on my partner so I think we’re even.” He smiled.  
Scott and Alison joined the table again, both a little wobbly.  
“Stiilessss” Scott whined. “Your ex just disrupted the drinking game.” He made an over dramatic frown. Isaac and Stiles both looked over to the back of the room to see Erica and Boyd sucking each other’s face off.  
“Is your drinking game more important than love?” Stiles shouted over dramatically and got a few giggles from the crowd.  
“Oh my god.” Alison said, her eyes directed towards the door. “Guess. Who. Just. Walked. In.”  
“Oh Jesus, why do I already know the answer to this?” Stiles groaned and hid his face in his hands.  
“Derek! What a surprise meeting you here!” Alison practically screamed as she stood up and waved over to Derek. When Alison was drunk she was a preppy high school cheerleader.  
Derek arched his eyebrow and walked over to the table. “You’re from the artillery room, right? Alison?”  
“Yup, that’s me! And I think you recognize someone else from this table, too.”  
Derek paused for a second before he spoke. “Oh. Stiles. Hi.”  
“Hello my beautiful partner.” Stiles said in a tone that could almost be sarcastic. “These are my beautiful friends. You know Alison. This is Scott, my best friend who kind of resembles a puppy and is also Alison’s husband-to-be. That’s Isaac, the cute guy who’s kind of quiet, who you should know too cause he works in the artillery. And over there making out against the wall is Boyd, who you know, and my ex, Erica.” He spoke in one big slur so you could barley understand what was coming out of his mouth.  
“He’s drunk.” Derek said, not as a question. He looked around the table before speaking again. “You’re all drunk.” He stood there for a second before he started to walk away.  
“No!” Scott yelled. “We’re all nice people, I swear! Sit down if you’re not waiting for someone.”  
Derek just looked at him with great confusion before he slowly took the seat at the end of the table.  
“So Derek, are you dating anyone right now?” Scott asked. Stiles almost spit out his drink.  
“Uh, no?” He said.  
“Well, who have you dated in the past? I’m interested in the specifics of what your type is, if you don’t mind.”  
“Please, Scott’s a brainless puppy when he’s drunk. Don’t listen to him.” Stiles said in a fluster.  
“Hey!” Scott yelled in defense.  
“I wouldn’t be saying anything if you knew how to shut up, bro!” Stiles said and Scott made an over dramatic frown.  
“But anyways, we are all very interested in your life, Derek.” Alison smiled.  
“Why?”  
“You know what I think isn’t fair?” Stiles said. “That Derek is the only sober person here. We’re fixing that, come on.” Stiles stood up from his seat and went over to Derek and attempted to drag him by the arm. “Can you just go along with this so we can pretend I’m not a weakling?” Derek sighed and stood up to follow him to the bar. Someone wolf whistled and Stiles almost turned around to punch whomever it was in the face.  
Stiles ordered him a few drinks and then thanked the gods that he wasn’t sober or else he would be dying of humiliation.  
“I swear to god my friends are cooler when they’re sober.” Stiles said as Derek sipped his first drink.  
“I believe it when I see it.”  
“Fair enough. So why are you here anyways?” Stiles asked.  
“I needed a drink. My apartment is right around the corner. Why are you here?”  
“To celebrate my knighthood into the NYPD. And just to get drunk, of course.”  
“Jesus, I feel like there’s some irony in that because you are barley of legal age to drink.”  
“Hey! I’m 23. I started drinking legally two years ago.”  
“You look like a baby.”  
“I just have one of those faces, don’t I?”  
After Derek had a couple of drinks, they dragged them back to the table to interrogate him some more.  
“What was it like when you lots your virginity?”  
“When was your first kiss?”  
“How many people have you dated?”  
“What’s your family like?”  
Derek didn’t answer any of their questions except for in laughs and grunts. Nobody really expected him to anyways; they just liked seeing him get flustered.  
“I should go before I say something I regret.” Derek said. “And you should go cause we all have work tomorrow. Harold is putting us on a real case and he’s going to be pissed if you’re hung over. I’m going to be pissed too.” With that, he stood up and left the bar.  
“He’s hot.” Scott said. Everyone just looked at him. “What! Just cause I’m straight, doesn’t mean I can’t notice these things! I was the only one who’d never seen him before.”  
“He is hot, Stiles sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Alison smiled.  
“I still think he’s a sourpuss.” Isaac grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter & on time update because who really wants to do homework anyways?? Right??


End file.
